


Saffina

by autumnstwilight (sewohayami)



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Character Study, Gen, One Shot, Post Game, Underage Drinking, Zelda learns to fight, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 08:13:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14765862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sewohayami/pseuds/autumnstwilight
Summary: Zelda practices sparring with Riju while remembering the woman who first taught her how to fight.





	Saffina

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of those things I sat down and wrote with no idea where it was going, just because the idea of Zelda training with the Gerudo interested me. Just playing around with characterization really.

The Moonlight Scimitar in her hand flashed in the rays of the setting sun, as Zelda shifted her feet, straining to remember how Urbosa had done this one hundred years ago. Across the courtyard Riju moved into a fighting stance, with a look of similar concentration. Between them stood Buliara, observing the two. The shield on Zelda’s left arm was growing heavy, and sweat dripped from her elbow as she adjusted her grip.

From the corner of her eye, she could see the patch of teal where Link stood, leaning against the wall with arms folded. Everyone present knew his true identity, and yet he still wore the clothing of a Gerudo voe. Riju and Buliara seemed to think it was best to give the appearance of upholding the law, and he was never one to put up much objection, no matter what was demanded of him.

“It’s fucking hot here,” he had said with a shrug, when she had brought the matter up, and offered no further comment. She had to admit the outfit suited him, perhaps better than her own pale blue garb suited her. The sapphire tiara he wore was particularly fetching, and she had resolved to ask where she could find a similar one after her training session.

_ Keep your shield up, and your center of balance low. _

The voice from over one hundred years ago sounded clearly in her mind, and she could almost feel Urbosa’s gentle touch on her shoulders and hips, adjusting her posture. That was before her father had assigned her a knight for protection, when she was meant to be praying in the desert, enduring the blazing sun and freezing nights in the hopes of proving her devotion to the goddess, that the spirit could exceed the flesh and awaken with the dawn.

Urbosa was having none of that. She was a woman of action, and spoke with words as sharpened as her scimitar. “Your mother was no ascetic, and your father should well know,” she scoffed, bringing the princess back into the town and pouring her a glass of a chill liquid shimmering with flakes of shaved ice, that nevertheless burned at the throat. Noble Pursuit, she had called it, saying she was making an exception to the usual beverage laws. “It was a favorite of your mother’s. There’s nothing better after a long day in the desert.”

“My mother drank this?”

“Well, hers contained rather more Voltfruit wine, but she was of age.”

“I see,” said Zelda, taking another sip and trying to focus on the sweetness of the fruit syrup over the bitter notes of alcohol and cool saffina. It was not entirely unpleasant, and a definite improvement over standard cooling elixirs, which could contain anything from still visible insect legs to the lingering and rancid aftertaste of Bokoblin innards.

After that, they had ventured again beyond the city walls. Urbosa had said that this training served two purposes, learning the basic techniques of fighting, so that she would not be completely helpless should she come across a Lizalfos in the desert, and an experiment to see if mastering control of her physical body gave her any hint of how to control her powers. Zelda suspected that the true reason was to give her a temporary escape from the endless secluded prayer her life had become, but she was in no mood to pass up such an opportunity. Besides, even the word “experiment” had given her a jolt of enthusiasm that she had barely felt in months. If anyone said “research”, she might well faint from the sudden excitement.

And so she had stood in the last light, with the sand soft and heavy under her feet and a blade in her hand, ready to dance. She bathed in the memory, calling it back to her across the great span of time, the void of shadow and things best left unremembered. She straightened her back and held her shield high.

“Begin!” commanded Buliara, driving the heel of her spear into the sand.

Riju moved with surprising swiftness, and her blade clashed against the heavy shield. The order to start the fight had barely reached Zelda’s ears when she found herself parrying. But she wasn’t going to lose so easily. She had the advantage of reach, and Riju would have to come well within striking range to land a blow. If Zelda could just keep her at bay… she surely couldn’t keep up this speed for long. The chief, for her part, moved like a coiled snake, striking and springing back with frightening grace. Despite herself, Zelda found herself wanting to chase, to try and find an opening on the retreat. She reminded herself that that was what Riju wanted, for her to make an ill-timed swing and leave herself open. It was what Urbosa would have done.

_ Has my patience really not cooled over one hundred years? _ she wondered. She had expected that after her lifetime of vigil, no minor waiting could ever bother her again. And yet, here she was, blood hot and singing in her veins. If anything, it had had the opposite effect. Too much time had been lost, and now she wanted to do everything, learn everything, be everything all at once. She had at last been set free to live.

Link had not moved, but she could feel his eyes upon her, the readiness in his tensed body. The moment she thought of him, another strike clashed against her shield, blocked imperfectly. Frustration rose within her. His concern for her was usually touching, but she wanted to prove that there was no need for it in the here and now. She parried the next blow forcefully, and heard Riju grunt as the impact jarred her arm. And then she followed through with a thrust of her own. She saw the elegant footwork of her opponent turn into a clumsy sidestep, and felt the tip of her blade catch cloth.

But nothing more. Though her balance had faltered, Riju recovered and pivoted. She hooked the crossguard of her blade under Zelda’s, and in a breath, had prised it from her grip and sent it spinning across the sand. Her hand clamped down tightly on Zelda’s arm, and they wrestled for a moment before Riju forced Zelda to the ground. The impact was so sudden that she could not keep her face from striking her shield, and blood reached the tip of her tongue. She reached forward to tap out, but had barely done so when Buliara shouted, “Stop!” and Riju released her.

Her hand flew to her mouth and came away bloody, she had bitten her own lip. Now that she was no longer running on adrenaline, the pain came to her.

“By the goddess, Riju, you are meant to be sparring with Lady Zelda, not knocking her teeth out,” Buliara chided. When Zelda looked up, Riju was reaching out to her with an expression of guilt and concern.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded.

“I- I didn’t mean to do that. I got carried away. I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head, “It was a good match, Riju. I’ll be fine.” She emphasized the last part for the benefit of Link, who was giving the two Gerudo a rather icy look. “In fact, I haven’t felt this alive for a long time.”

The last traces of pink were vanishing from the sky, and the scent of saffina came to her on the evening breeze.

“But if you don’t mind, I’d like a drink.”


End file.
